


Concerto for Two Strings

by stellacanta



Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-27 21:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17774510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellacanta/pseuds/stellacanta
Summary: It all started because Therion found a piano in an empty music room. How was he to know that someone was listening in?





	Concerto for Two Strings

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiried by the [last picture](https://hashagi.tumblr.com/post/181217595237/survivor-of-the-tumblr-purge-so-heres-octodump) in the pic dump by [hashagi on tumblr](https://hashagi.tumblr.com)

Therion coughed when he pushed open the door to the room. Dust moats floated in the air and there was a rather thick layer of the stuff over everything in the room. He glared at the empty room, as if blaming it for the sudden bout of coughing, before he placed a hand over his nose and mouth and walked into the room. 

There were a few things that he learned during his time as a thief. The first of which was to look in every room, and especially the locked rooms, because one never knew what one would find in them. Treasure beyond one’s wildest dreams was just as likely to be found in the storeroom, forgotten by its owners, than in a vault in the bedroom. That being said, there didn’t look to be any great treasure here.

He frowned as he took a look around the mostly empty room. There were a few cabinets that lined the walls of the room and shoved off to one side was a piano and a handful of stands in a loose circle around it. A piano and a handful of music stands huh? He wandered over towards the stands and saw there was an old booklet of sheet music on one. The pages yellow and curled up at the edges. He walked over to the piano and pressed down on a key. A crisp note pierced the air and he almost jumped at the sudden noise that shattered the quiet.

Tentatively he pressed another key and then another, the beginnings of a small tune he remembered from childhood. Sudden clapping did cause him to jolt and he whirled around to face the source of the noise, dagger drawn in front of him. “Oh, I did not mean to scare you,” the man who stood in the doorway to the room said before he pushed himself off the doorframe and walked towards Therion. The thief found himself taking a step back as the man stopped right in front of him. “I was just walking down this hallway and came across the most delightful little tune, ah but it was you that was our mysterious pianist wasn’t it?” Therion found himself lowering the dagger even as the man turned towards the piano. “It has been several years at the very least since this room was last opened, and, I must say, it is simply a  _ pleasure _ to hear music coming from here again.” The man turned towards Therion and offered him a guileless smile. “Do you play- oh, what am I saying, of course you play! But could you play something for me perchance? I would love to hear this old girl sing once again.” The man gave a fond look towards the piano.

Therion slipped the dagger back into its place, the man meant him no harm. The man was probably also looking for a response. He gulped. “I- I guess I could. Uh-” He looked towards the piano, slightly panicked. “-it’s been a while since I played so forgive me if I’m a bit rusty- um?”

The man stared blankly at him at the unworded question. Therion turned and watched as realization slowly crossed his face. “Oh! My word I have chattered your ear off without introducing myself.” The man chuckled and held out a hand. The smile he offered him was warm and gentle, Therion found himself trying to hitch the scarf he always wore a bit higher on his face. Trying to in that he forgot he didn’t have it on and his hand hung awkwardly in the air before he forced it to his side. “Please do forgive me for my impoliteness, mother is always saying ‘Cyrus, dear, you must practice proper decorum around others’. Silly me I seems to have forgotten again-”

“-Cyrus then.” He lay his fingers gently onto the piano keys as his mother had taught him too so many years ago. The finger he had used to play the beginnings of the song from before had a layer of dust on them, but he paid it no mind. It seemed the piano keys, like the rest of the room, had been unused in some time. “Is there song you’d like to hear?”

“Oh why whatever you have in mind would be lovely. Did that tune from before have more to it? I found it to be the most splendid ditty, although one, I admit that I’m not familiar with. Is it from around where you from? I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything quite like it here in Atlasdam.”

The man really did talk too much, Therion thought to himself. He began to play, his fingers moving from muscle memory beaten in from long ago. The sound of the piano did its job of shutting the man up. More than that, he found himself relaxing as the music went on, memories being dredged up of better times when there was another pressed against his back and guiding small fingers on the keys. Times when there was a voice in his ear gently chiding him for mistakes and whispering soft encouragement when he finally got the hang of a passage.

Therion didn’t realize when he had stopped playing and the last note had faded into silence. He was brought out from his reverie by a sigh and the sound of soft clapping. “Marvelous, truly marvelous.” Therion turned to find Cyrus rising from a seat he had taken somewhere from behind him. “For someone who is rusty, I must say you play quite beautifully.” Therion gulped when the man came to a stop right in front of him. “When I heard the piano coming down this hallway-” Cyrus’ eyes brightened suddenly and he grabbed Therion’s hands in excitement. The thief barely bit back a yelp at the sudden action. “-ah! There is to be a concert in a few weeks time and I have not found a partner to play with me. Please, it is clear that you are a talented young man, will you be my accompanist?” 

He wanted to shout at Cyrus. The man wanted him to be his what? His lips twisted into a snarl. “I don’t even know you-”

“-oh, but you know my name. Cyrus Albright, at your service, and I play a cello, hardly an instrument fitting for a soloist. My previous arrangement with a rather pretty and talented violinist fell through so, would you please be my violinist? Please?” Begging eyes bored into his and he found himself looking away before long. “Ah, but if you are no good at the violin, the piano would do just as well. Just please say you’ll be my accompanist,  _ please _ -”

“-I was going to say that you don’t even know  _ my _ name.” Therion took his chance to look at Cyrus and his pleading crystal blue eyes that he found it so hard to say no to. He sighed. “Fine, I’ll be your accompanist-”

“-oh thank you so much! You won’t regret it, I swear-”

“-and my name is Therion,” he finished smoothly. “Pleased to meet you as well Cyrus.”

The smile that crossed Cyrus’ face could have rivaled the sun peeking out from behind clouds after days without sunlight. It was so bright and dazzling and Therion was unable to tear his eyes away. “Oh, Therion, the pleasure is all mine.” 

Therion felt his cheeks grow red and he forced himself to look away. “Right so-”

“-oh we should arrange for a date and time to practice shouldn’t we? Right, right, ah would meeting here an hour and a half before supper say every other day starting tomorrow work for you? You are the new footman that was hired are you not? I’m sure you’re very busy so I’ll try not to impose on too much of your time.”

He looked towards the ground, feeling the blush on his cheeks darken by the second. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Ah, wonderful. Well I shall see you tomorrow then, Therion.” Footsteps hastened towards the doorway and he caught the barest mutterings about duets and violins. The footsteps stopped a moment later and Cyrus turned to face him. “Oh, before I forget, you don’t happen to have a violin on you do you?”

Therion snorted. Oh now the man thought to ask him that did he? “Of course not. Why would  _ that _ be something I have on me? I’m not some traveling musician you know.”

“Hmm, it had just occurred to me that perhaps you would not have had a violin on your person. Well, than I shall just have to acquire one for when we next meet. Fare thee well, Therion.”

He looked behind the man’s departing back in confusion. Did the man expect to say that back? Despite himself he felt one hand rise as if to gave a wave. When he realized what he was doing he snarled and forced his hand down. What was he doing? He was here to rob the place not to make friends with some princeling who had probably never suffered a day in his life.

Therion looked around him. So this was a music room then? Odd place to keep something valuable if there was indeed something of value in here. He gave a half-hearted search of the place and to his lack of surprise found absolutely nothing of note, just some dusty old sheets of music and a few sad instrument cases here and there. The room was well and truly forgotten about by its occupants. Pity.

He snuck out of the room as quietly as he could. Angry at himself for letting himself get distracted from his goal like that. (But mostly angry at himself for how much he was looking forward with his next meeting with Cyrus despite everything.)

…

There was an instrument case laying open on the piano, the only large flat surface in the room, when Therion entered it next. Inside the case was a violin. Therion ran his fingers lightly over the ebony fingerboard. His fingers followed the path of the strings down the fingerboard over the thin but strong bridge and down to its end at the tailpiece. The wood of the instrument was a rich brown that grew lighter at the corners.

Without thinking, he picked up the instrument and spun it around so he could look at its back. He whistled as he noticed the bright flames on the back of the instrument that streaked one solid path across the wood. The tiger-like stripes covered the entire back of the instrument shifted from dark to light back to dark as he gently tilted the violin back and forth. 

“You like it then?” Therion snapped his head towards the sound of the voice and found Cyrus setting up his music on one of the now dust free music stands. He took a quick look around the room, everything was a lot less dusty than it had been before. Did Cyrus get someone to clean up the place? “I was going to inquire after a violin I could borrow for you for a while but then I was reminded that musicians hoard their instruments like gold and it was unlikely that  _ anyone _ would lend me their instrument for a few weeks. So I went down to the local luthier to see if I could find one that is suitable.” A nervous look crossed Cyrus’ face when Therion didn’t react and continued to stare at the instrument. “It  _ is _ suitable is it not?”

“Only one way to find out,” Therion replied nonchalantly as he set the violin onto his shoulder and picked up the bow from the case. The note on the open A string rang clear and true, if a bit out of tune. He hummed to himself as he went over to the violin and pressed down the A key and the sustain pedal. Cyrus watched as Therion drew the bow across the open A string with one hand and alternated between turning the peg and pressing the A key with the other. Once he was done with tuning one string, he moved onto another.

“Ah you have experience with the violin then?”

“A little,” Therion admitted as he frowned trying to get the D string tuned just right. He gave up a moment later, figuring it was close enough, before he moved to the lowest string, G. “I’m more familiar with the piano but I know the basics of the violin.” It wasn’t long before he had moved onto tuning the highest string, E. “There was a fiddler back-” Home, he wanted to say. Except it really wasn’t home now was it? “-when I was little that taught me what little he knew when he saw I took an interest in his fiddle. It wasn’t a lot but it was enough where I could play a couple of small dances and accompany other songs.” 

His brows furrowed when he finished tuning the instrument and looking back at Cyrus. “The piece you want to play isn’t  _ difficult _ is it? I’d hate to turn you down since you went through all the trouble of getting a violin for me, but if it’s too difficult I might not be able to accompany you on violin after all.”

“The piece might be a bit, hmm,  _ challenging _ but I don’t think I picked one that was too, ah, shall we say technically rigorous?” Cyrus pointed at the music stand with booklet open atop of it next to him. “I wanted to choose a piece where I as a cellist would have a chance to shine instead of simply playing the harmony to the violin’s melody, but, ah, even if the composer had  _ arranged _ for cello and violin I’m sure the piece would sound just as good on with the cello and piano?” Cyrus didn’t sound sure, and Therion stepped around, violin still on his shoulder, to take a look at the music on the stand.

He felt a little relieved when his eyes traced the notes on the page. There were no super high notes that he wouldn’t be able to reach and no super fast passages. He pointed to a space on the music staff for Cyrus to see with the bow of the violin. “This is A right?”

Cyrus’ eyes brightened a bit when he saw where he had pointed. “Ah, yes indeed. So you can read music then, I admit the thought did occur to me that perhaps you couldn’t when you said the only training you had received was-”

Playing the first few notes of the piece at an experimentally slow pace seemed to shut the man up. The notes were slightly wobbly and unsure as he reacclimated himself to the sense of playing a violin after so many years of not playing. The pace slowly became quicker and his notes more confident as he picked up the tune of the piece. It was a simple, but pleasing, tune. Cheerful in all the right ways. 

He looked over to Cyrus who seemed to be vibrating slightly in his chair in excitement. “Wonderful, so the piece isn’t too challenging for you is it? Marvelous, and, I must say, for someone without much experience with the violin, you do seem to have a flair for it. Although, I suppose that isn’t surprising when one takes into account your skill on the piano.” 

Cyrus was really effusive with his praise wasn’t he? Therion felt his cheeks grow red and he coughed and looked away from the man. “I’m glad I lived up to your expectations then,” Therion said wryly. “Should we start practice now?” They were here for a reason after all. (And that reason wasn’t Cyrus showering him with praise he frankly did not deserve.)

Cyrus’ eyes twinkled with mirth as he placed his bow atop the strings of the cello that sat between his knees. “Ah, the reason for why we have gathered here, yes it is most prudent that we start is it not? I shall give us four beats then, one, two, three, four.” 

Therion wasn’t quite prepared for the start and so started a little later than Cyrus. The voice of the violin clashed with that of Cyrus’ cello and Cyrus was forced to cut them off a few bars into the piece. “No, no, that isn’t right,” Cyrus said, a note of frustration in his voice. “We’re  _ off _ now why would we be-”

“-maybe we should try again but slower,” Therion suggested.

“Hmm, yes, perhaps that would be better.” Cyrus looked up at Therion. “Just so we get a better sense of one another, yes?” 

Therion wasn’t sure that he  _ wanted _ Cyrus to get a better sense of who he was, but he was prepared when Cyrus counted them off. This time, the voices of the two instruments winded around each other, almost sensuously in the slower pace. He felt a shiver go down his spine at how the notes of the cello seemed to chase the notes of the violin, and how, in return, the violin’s notes would dip down to meet the cello’s. By time they got to the end of the piece, small wobbles and uncertain timings and all, Cyrus seemed pleased with himself and Therion was squinting over certain sections of the piece. Someone (Cyrus perhaps?) had been thoughtful enough to put a pencil on the stand and he used it to circle certain sections to mark them for further practice. “Ah, yes now, that’s how it’s supposed to go-” Therion ignored him in favor of marking the sheet music up more and practicing certain sections he had trouble with. “-splendid, I’m sure with more practice we’ll sound magnificent together.” 

All Cyrus got was a noncommittal grunt in response as Therion tried a few things and muttered to himself about this note or that transition. “How long has it been since you’ve played again?”

The question caught Therion by surprise as he turned towards Cyrus. “Curious now?”

“Well you must forgive a man for his curiosity, you arrived quite out of the blue right when I needed it. I can’t help but think you’re a godsgiven gift sent directly to me.” Cyrus was leaning against his cello, the hand holding the bow lazily draped over its front and the other hand resting lightly on the wood on its side. There was a soft smile on his face, one that should be reserved for lovers or small children, and Therion couldn’t help but think it was a good look on him. 

The blush on his face returned with full force and he nearly dropped the pencil he had in hand. What was he thinking? He was here to rob the place not to make friends with the little princeling. (And certainly not to think he looked good with the sunlight illuminating his face and hair just so.) “I think you think too highly of yourself to think that the gods would send  _ me _ as a gift for you just because your last violinist ditched on you.” Even the man’s  _ laughter _ sounded delightful. He gritted his teeth, how annoying.

“Au contraire, I think it is  _ you _ who thinks too lowly of yourself.”

Therion humphed and went back to looking at the sheet music and making sure he had all his troublesome passages marked for later practice. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Cyrus was still staring. “Is there something else you wanted to ask?”

“You have the most delightful green eyes did you know? They shine like emeralds.” Okay, whatever Therion had been expecting to hear come out of Cyrus’ mouth hadn’t been  _ that _ . He turned to face the cellist, shock evident on his face. Cyrus was staring at him with a soppy expression. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes that green before.”

“And flattery will get you nowhere,” Therion replied decisively as he walked away from the music stand and towards the piano to place the violin and its bow back in its case. “I came here because you said you wanted to  _ practice _ not because I wanted to hear how green my eyes are. Save that line for some girl and I’m  _ sure _ you’ve seen people with green eyes before.” Gently the violin was laid in the wood and the bow was placed in its designated spot above it. “Now how green they were compare to mine, I can’t say for certain, but I’m sure you just haven’t looked hard enough.” 

“You think you’re not worthy of my praise is that it,” Cyrus asked as his deep blue (and now why would Therion have noticed that) eyes tracked Therion’s walk through the room. “Because I assure you that you are, and this praise is meant for you alone.”

Therion snorted but didn’t argue further with him. “Mmm, sure, whatever you think. Anyway, I hope you’ll excuse me because I just remembered I had something to do. I’m sorry to cut this practice session short.”

“Oh, by all means, you should go on about your duties, but- Therion, you seem to have forgotten your violin!” It was clear from Cyrus’ tone that he was shocked he would leave without such a valuable instrument.

Therion stopped at the doorway and gave Cyrus the flattest stare he could muster. “I didn’t forget it, I left it behind.” He thought back to the dark brown wood and the flames that glistened down the back of the instrument. “It’s too valuable of a gift for me to take.” Now for him to  _ steal _ maybe- “Keep it safe for me okay?” He pushed himself off the doorway and left without taking a single look back.

…

“So, where  _ do _ you hail from anyways, Therion?” The question was asked out of the blue during practice one day, right after they had gone through a particularly difficult section of the piece that Therion insisted they revisit. 

Therion paused in the middle of marking up the page and gave Cyrus a confused look. “I thought we agreed we  _ wouldn’t  _ talk about me during practice?”

“While that may be your prerogative to not talk about yourself, I don’t believe I ever agreed to such a thing.” Cyrus was giving him that  _ look _ again, the one that seemed just too sappy and a bit too open. “Can you blame me for being curious about you and your past? I asked around about the piano piece that you played that one time and it seems that it’s a jig from the Cliftlands?” If Cyrus noticed how Therion twitched at the mention of the Cliftlands, he made no mention of it. “The Cliftlands are awfully far away from here isn’t it? Why, it’s on the other side of Osterra from here if you look at the map-”

“-I’ve seen a map, you don’t need to tell me what I already know.” He placed the pencil on the stand with a satisfying clunk and he looked towards the cellist. “Why are you so curious about where I am anyway? Thinking of trying to find another person to accompany you from the same place?” The joke was worded a little too harshly to be completely nonchalant. He couldn't help it. Biting “jokes” were just his way of hiding how hurt and scared he could be. (Weakness was something that mustn’t ever be shown after all.)

“No, no, nothing like that,” Cyrus assured him as he looked towards his sheet music. “It’s just- I want to know more about you. Therion-” Cyrus turned to face him fully, his eyes shining with an amazement that Therion had never seen directed at him. “You’re  _ fascinating _ you realize? But more than that, you’re a fascinating mystery that I want to spend my days solving.” Therion started to wish he had his scarf on him as he broke away from Cyrus gaze and plucked tunelessly at the violin. “You pretend that you’re a nobody of no repute, but that is not enough to fool me. You are not from these parts, yet here is where you have arrived and where you have stayed. You pretend to be not especially skilled in anything, but I have seen you at the piano and with the violin and there is raw, untapped talent there. You are witty and clever and notice even the smallest things and I don’t see  _ why _ you’re not-”

“-I thought we were here to practice not for you to wax lyrical upon my person,” Therion couldn’t help but snap, completely flustered and embarrassed by Cyrus’ spiel by this point. He tucked his chin down, as if hiding his face in an invisible scarf. There was one other person who had been effusive in his praise of him. Well, not as effusive as Cyrus was, and neither was his praise for as innocent a reason as Cyrus’ appeared to be. Cyrus seemed to be genuinely interested in him as a person, Darius was only interested in his skills as a thief. 

Speaking of skills as a thief, what was he even doing here? Why was he playing around with the little princeling of the household like it meant anything? (Why would Cyrus even remember him when he left in the dead of the night as he inevitably would?) “Why do you even care,” Therion found himself asking bitterly. The words surprised Therion by coming out as they did, but he found he couldn’t stop the tide of emotions that welled in him. “I’m just some commonborn servant who  _ happens _ to be good at music. You wouldn’t even notice me if I passed you in the street. You’re not going to care about me once this concert is over so why-”  _ Why do you keep looking at me like I’m the most precious thing in the world? _

There was a long pause and follow by the sound of wood being lightly placed against the ground. Therion looked up with surprise as Cyrus stepped towards him, one hand reached out as if to calm a frightened horse. (Mentally, he snorted at the thought of being the frightened horse in this scenario.) “You’re wrong, Therion. I would like to think that if we were to pass by one another on the street I would notice you, there is something special about you that you can’t see in yourself.” Therion shuddered a bit when Cyrus placed a hand lightly on his arm before the taller man offered him a rueful smile. “I was hoping that you would stay with me after the concert was over, however. Not even as an violinist, although I must say I feel more relaxed with you as my partner than any other violinist I have partnered with. No, I would like to hear you play the piano again.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You want to hear me play- the piano again,” he asked flatly.  

Cyrus noded with a small laugh. “Yes as much as I have enjoyed our practice sessions together, I must say that I enjoyed hearing you play the piano. Is it so strange that I would rather have you play at least once more for me than to keep you on as an accompanying violinist, not that I would let you accompany someone else quite so easily.”

“Oh ho Cyrus,” he teased, all but purring out his words as he tried to ignore the fact that Cyrus hadn’t removed his hand from his arm. “You would me to be your accompanying violinist  _ and _ to play the piano for you. Getting a little greedy aren’t we?”

“Oh, but Therion, I would have all of you if I could-” Therion turned a bright red at those words, he really had to wonder if Cyrus realized what he was saying sometimes. “-but if I had to pick just one,” Cyrus continued with a put-upon sigh. “I would like to listen to you play the piano for me again. Just once. I’m no good at it and you have an ability to make it  _ sing _ . Ah I would love to hear its melodic notes once more.”

Therion stared at him. He stared at the hand that Cyrus had not yet removed. He stared at the cello that was resting on the ground. It didn’t take long for him to make a decision. He doubted they would get much more practice in today, and they had already managed to make good progress besides. “I guess we could take a small break,” he said, trying to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible as he set down the violin carefully on his chair and walked to the piano. 

Cyrus watched with unbridled delight as Therion sat down at the piano stool and placed his fingers on the ivory key. He played a song that his mother had taught him so long ago, one that she always loved to play, and did not notice when Cyrus sat down on the stool next to him, taking up what little room there was left on it. When he reached the end of the piece, he startled noticing how close Cyrus was pressed to him, and how the other man had his head resting on his shoulder. “You play beautifully,” Cyrus told him simply, intertwining their hands when Therion’s came to rest on his lap. 

“I-” he gulped as he noticed just how blue Cyrus’ eyes were (blue as the see) and how they stared at him so softly. “-thank you.” 

He didn’t stop him when Cyrus leaned in to press a soft kiss against his lips.

…

“There’s something I want to give you,” Cyrus said when they met in the music room per usual in the scant few hours before they were due to play. Already the first guests had began to arrive and the servants were bustling about with last minute preparations. Therion would be joining them, but well- 

He stopped when he saw the elegant clothes laid upon the piano. A silk shirt, a deep teal vest that shimmered slightly, and black trousers. He looked at Cyrus. “Am I not fancy enough for the ball, m’lord?”

Cyrus laughed and Therion couldn’t help but grin back. “Oh no, I thought you might want to wear something that would allow you to blend in with the crowd. If you take that to mean dressing fancily-”

“-thanks,” he said as he walked towards the piano and picked up the trousers first. He was about to take off his and put them on when he realized that Cyrus had not budged one inch from where he stood. “Do you mind?”

“Shy are we,” Cyrus teased with a smirk. He stared blankly at Cyrus before the man sighed and turned back around. “If you insist.”

“I don’t mind giving you a show, but I would rather do that somewhere we wouldn’t suddenly be walked in on.” Therion hid a smirk as Cyrus gave a sudden inhale of breath. Heh, how did he know?

“That- would be a most prudent indeed.” Cyrus finally managed to say after a long moment. A long moment he took advantage of to change into the trousers and shirt. He had finished buttoning up the last button when Cyrus finally turned around. “Perhaps it would be something you would be amenable to in the safety of my bedroom?” Therion was shrugging on the vest when the man tsk’d and stepped forward to button it up for him. “Ah, allow me.” 

There was something sensual about having someone else dress you, Therion quickly realized as Cyrus lingered a bit too long on the buttons. They stared deeply into one another’s eyes when Cyrus slipped the last button through its buttonhole. “We should go,” he said a bit hoarsely. “They’ll be expecting us soon.”

“Oh, yes, you are quite right.” Cyrus took a reluctant step back before he cleared his throat and picked up his music and cello case. “Well to the ballroom then.”

Therion shook his head as he did to the same to his violin case and sheet music. “I mean we do have a concert to get through,” he said, nudging Cyrus when he caught up to him. The man shot him a grateful smile in response. “Afterwards though-” He smirked to himself. “-well afterwards, we have all the time to do as we wish won’t we?”

Cyrus laughed when he caught ahold of his implied meaning. (Therion decided that he wouldn't mind hearing that laugh for the rest of his life.)


End file.
